


hard to keep the rainclouds out

by Lise



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jane tries to get Thor to talk about his feelings, Post-Thor: The Dark World, Sad, short fic crossposting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 07:32:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5155496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lise/pseuds/Lise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Dark World, Jane tries to get Thor to talk about his feelings, a little bit. It goes...okay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	hard to keep the rainclouds out

**Author's Note:**

> I have a thing for writing grief/mourning fic. I'm not sure why. Maybe it's because I'm so shit at processing my real life emotions that I just do it in fic? Whoooo knows. 
> 
> At any rate - trying to work through posting some of my backlog of short(er) fic that originally appeared on my Tumblr, of which this is one. Other than that, I really have no notes to speak of. Enjoy?

Thor did not talk about Loki much.

No, that was an understatement. Thor didn’t talk about Loki _at all._ It was one of those big, quiet,empty spaces between them that just didn’t get crossed, and Jane knew it was there and knew she should do something about it but didn’t know how, exactly. Especially not when a stupid part of her felt guilty, sometimes.

And what would she even say, anyway? She didn’t know anything about Loki except what he’d done to Erik and New York, except the gleam in his eye when he’d smiled at her and the way he’d watched her on Svartalfheim. Hungry and furious and searching in a way that made Jane think of bugs pinned to velvet.

(And then he’d protected her, thrown her out of the way of the implosion grenade or whatever it was, hunched his body over hers when the Aether shattered, and of course there was a reason for it, some sinister motive or another, just because she didn’t know what it was didn’t mean it wasn’t there.)

But Thor. Thor who was grieving however much he might hide it from her. He spoke sadly of his mother (more guilt, there, Jane tried not to feel it but there it was) but sometimes in the middle of stories he would trail off, eyes growing distant and glassy, and not resume.

“What was Loki like?” Jane asked over breakfast, and Thor’s head jerked up. Jane felt her stomach jerk as he focused on her.

“I…” Thor frowned, seeming uncertain, and then shook his head. “We do not need to speak of him, Jane.”

_Don’t we?_ She wondered.  _It’s like his shadow is still here, sometimes,_ but that was unkind. “I know we don’t  _need_ to. I was asking.”

“Why?” Thor released the coffee cup he was holding. He looked tense too, Jane realized, and she felt a little flutter of nervousness.

“I don’t…I’m curious,” she said, though she regretted it when something dark crossed Thor’s face, there and gone.

“If you seek to understand my brother,” he said, voice strangely flat, “I would tell you it is likely futile. Loki ever kept his secrets close, and his mind worked in strange ways.” Jane felt a little stung, as though she had been dismissed.

“That much is obvious,” she said, maybe a little snippily, and shook herself. “No, sorry, I didn’t mean-”

Thor stood up, chair scraping back loudly. “I must go,” he said. Jane wanted to cringe.

“Thor,” she said.

“I would ask,” Thor said, “that you not speak to me of my brother. I know you have no love for him and I do not expect you to. But he was beloved of me.” He walked out the front door while Jane was still trying to figure out what she’d said wrong. The door didn’t slam. Thor was always careful not to slam the doors.

Jane dropped her forehead into her hands and groaned.

* * *

Thor came back after a little over an hour. “I’m sorry,” Jane said, the minute he opened the door, sitting sharply upright on the couch. “I went about that all wrong, I know.” Thor looked at her for a long moment, that sad, tired expression on his face that he got sometimes that made her kind of  _hurt_ on the inside. Then he shook his head.

“No, I am sorry, Jane. I acted poorly and spoke harshly to you. I know you did not mean harm.” He crossed the room and sat down beside her, though he didn’t reach for her. Jane gave him a look she knew was pleading.

“I thought it might help,” she said. “If you…talked about him. About Loki.”  _He’s dead now,_ she didn’t add.  _I don’t have any reason to hate him anymore._  Thor bowed his head.

“Perhaps,” he said at length. “I merely…tire of feeling as though I must explain my grief. Excuse it as though it is something to be ashamed of.”

Jane reached out tentatively to lay a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to explain to me.”

The look Thor gave her was uncomfortably perceptive. “Do I not?”

Jane cleared her throat, feeling a little defensive. “Well, I’m not – I’m not saying I understand how you feel, exactly. I’m an only child, I’ve never had a sibling, but my dad died when I was fifteen and…” She trailed off, everything she’d been meaning to say suddenly seeming weak and selfish. She looked down and heard Thor sigh.

“I am sorry,” he said. “I should not be suspicious of your kindness.” He took her hand and kissed her fingers with a smile, though it looked a touch strained and melancholy. “I meant what I said, however. We do not have to discuss this. Loki.”

_If not me who are you going to discuss it with,_ Jane wanted to ask, but didn’t. She met Thor’s eyes, trying to make her expression stubborn. “I know we don’t have to. I’m asking if you want to.”

Thor bowed his head and was silent. Eventually he raised his gaze back to her. “I do not know what there is to say.” He didn’t sound upset, exactly. Just…tired. Resigned, almost. “It is not as though…I never got him back, after the first time. There were glimpses, I thought, but…”

Jane chewed on her lip. “He threw me out of the way of one of those implosion grenade things,” she said. “The one he almost got sucked into.”

Thor’s look of slight surprise made her think he hadn’t known that, though his expression clouded quickly. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Jane said, a little awkwardly. “I guess it might have been reflexive, and he sure wasn’t very gentle about it, but…” she trailed off. Thor’s mouth tugged up at one corner though it wasn’t exactly a happy expression.

“I wonder if he would have liked you, if things had been different,” Thor said. “If he might have…I do not know. You are so clever, and Loki always respected cleverness and curiosity.” Jane tried to imagine what that would be like, being  _friends_ with  _Loki,_ and couldn’t. Still, she made herself nod, and Thor’s faraway gaze didn’t seem to notice anything off. “I wish…you could have met him when he was not mad. He could be…he was…” Thor trailed off. Jane gave his arm an ineffectual squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” she said, uselessly. Thor’s eyes moved back to her face, seeming to see her again.

“I know it is wrong of me,” he said suddenly, “but I wish he had not died.”

Jane blinked. “How is that wrong? Of course you wish your younger brother was still alive.”

Thor shook his head. “That is not – he died well.” He looked away from her again, staring somewhere else. “Bravely, and in battle. It is a worthy end, a warrior’s end. And yet I would take it from him. That is selfish of me.”

Jane stared at Thor, hard. “It’s selfish of you to wish that Loki hadn’t died?” she said, a little incredulous. Thor just nodded, not seeming to catch her confusion.

“I wonder if – perhaps it was what he wanted,” Thor said, words not quite halting, and Jane did lean forward, frowning.

“Thor,” she said, trying to get his attention, “I don’t understand.”

Thor’s eyes looked liquid with unshed tears. “What have I told you of what happened when I returned to Asgard?” He said abruptly. Jane blinked and sat back.

“That you and Loki fought,” she said slowly. “And you broke the Bifrost.”  _And that’s why you didn’t come back even though you said you would,_ she didn’t add. There was no need to be petty, not right now. There was something devastating in Thor’s expression, a kind of empty sadness that made her heart beat a little faster.

“When the Bifrost broke…the force pulled Loki and I toward the edge, and Loki over it. He was holding on and I could have drawn him back up, I meant to, but then…” Thor took a ragged breath. “He let go.” There was a painful mixture of shame and grief etched on Thor’s face. “Until he appeared on Midgard, I believed – we all believed – he had died.”

Jane’s mouth felt dry.  _Committed suicide._ Thor might not have said the words, might be stepping around it, but she knew they were there. She remembered in college learning that a girl down the hall had died of an overdose. Everyone had called it  _the tragic accident,_ no one willing to say that she’d killed herself. She worked some moisture back into her mouth, trying to fit the picture Thor was describing into what she knew of Loki, what she remembered, the videos she’d seen.

“So you think…” she trailed off. “What do you think?”

“I do not know.” Thor’s voice was heavy. “Father sentenced Loki to imprisonment for the rest of his life. Perhaps he believed it would be better to seek Valhalla in the only way he could find it. Honorable death in battle.”

Jane bit her lip, trying to picture what she’d seen of the fight. Not much; she’d been busy trying to keep her distance. She couldn’t have said if Thor was right or wrong and didn’t know what she  _should_ say or what would be comforting.

“I cannot decide,” Thor went on after a moment, “if it would be better if it was his choice or if he simply acted, coming to my aid without thought. As he used.” Thor’s eyes closed for a moment.

_I didn’t do it for him,_  Loki had said, just before he died. Jane had heard that much, and the frantic apologies, and felt like an onlooker in a place she didn’t belong. She shifted to give Thor an awkward hug, wishing suddenly, selfishly, that she weren’t having this conversation. She was in too deep and didn’t know what she was doing.

“I guess..” Jane bit the inside of her cheek, choosing her words carefully. “He did help you, in the end. Isn’t that…comforting?” Even as she said it, though, it sounded absurd.

“It should be,” Thor said. “You are right. He and mother are together now, perhaps, feasting side by side. And that is why it is selfish, that I would rather have him here and fighting me than…at peace.”

Jane gave him a squeeze. “You’re not selfish,” she said firmly. “You’re probably the least selfish person I know.”

Thor shook himself and turned to her. He stroked her face, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I am becoming maudlin,” he said with a weak smile. “I am sorry, Jane.” He took her hand in both of his. “Thank you. For letting me speak.”

“You’re welcome,” Jane said almost automatically, then frowned and added, “if there’s anything else you wanted to say…”

“No,” Thor said, quiet but firm. “No, that is fine.” He leaned in and kissed her on the lips, then on the forehead. “There is nothing more I need say.”

Jane caught his hand before he pulled away from her. “When you talk about him – about Loki,” she said, “it makes me wish I’d met him too. The Loki you talk about.”

Thor smiled that sad smile, still several watts brighter than anyone else Jane had ever seen. “I wish you had, Jane,” he said. He stood slowly, moving away. “Sometimes I wonder, still, if he will come back. And he will laugh at me, and smile, and all will be as it was before everything went wrong.” He huffed a soft laugh. “It is foolish.”

Jane stayed where she was on the couch in tongue-tied silence. “It’s not,” she made herself say. Thor shook his head.

“Isn’t it?” He sighed, and turned. “I am sorry, Jane. I do not think we should speak of this further.”

“Thor…”

“I do not think,” Thor repeated more firmly, “we should speak of this further.”

Jane sighed, her shoulders slumping. She knew that tone; it was the same one he used telling her to go to bed or eat something when she’d been buried in data for hours on end. Thor wasn’t going to budge. “Okay.”

“I think that I need to step outside.” Thor sounded strained.

“Did I…say something wrong?” Jane asked, her voice small.

“No,” Thor said at once, turning and pacing back to her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “ _No,_ Jane. I merely…need a moment for myself.”

“All right,” she said. “I…all right.”

Thor stepped out the back door and stood in the yard for a moment, his head down. Then he moved out of sight. It took Jane a moment to realize that there was rain tapping softly at the windows. Jane dropped her face into her hands and sighed.

She should’ve left well enough alone.


End file.
